


Saturday at 8pm

by dont_read_this_garbage



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Doggy Style, Drabble, Knotting, Other, beastiality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-11-02 06:51:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20659049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dont_read_this_garbage/pseuds/dont_read_this_garbage
Summary: A little Drabble from a discord server about a Saturday night at 8pmMind the tags. You’ve been warned.





	Saturday at 8pm

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER!!  
This is purely a work of fiction. The characters in this work do not in any way represent the views or values of the author. Beastiality is bad. Do not use this work to justify it. That is not its purpose.

There was a scratch on the bedroom door, and Keiths heart began to pound in his chest. He knew what that sound meant. It was 8pm on a Saturday night. Kosmo was ready and waiting for them to carry out their routine.

This wasn’t a routine he was proud of. It wasn’t a routine he had planned to set in place. Originally he’d only been acting on a ridiculous idea, his hormones getting the best of him as he sat alone in his tiny house—alone save for his trusty wolfdog who was always by his side. And once they’d finished he’d planned to forget it ever happened, to go on with his life and pretend he was still a normal young man with a normal pet.

Kosmo had had other ideas, though. He’d gotten a taste, and he wasn’t ready to give that up. He became aggressive and spontaneous, pouncing on Keith any time his back was turned. He would mime the act when he didn’t have the right access to Keiths body and fully overpower him on the rare occasions he did. Something had to change. Keith knew it did. There had been way too many close calls while he’d had company over already, and people were bound to get suspicious eventually.

The big conundrum was what exactly he was going to do. Kosmo was too big for him to keep reacting and hoping it would keep him at bay. He had to get proactive about it.

The idea struck him as he perused the microwave dinners in the supermarket one evening. A very loud girl was complaining about the days she tried to sleep in and how her cat would remind her it was breakfast time. He couldn’t believe he’d overlooked such an important fact: that animals could keep a schedule. They didn’t have a concept of numbers, but they could track the passing of time.

He picked a day and time that he figured would be pretty safe from prying eyes. He wouldn’t be inviting anyone over and he knew nobody would invite themselves. On that night he took Kosmo in the bedroom and initiated their activities, allowing Kosmo to do whatever he pleased.

He repeated this the next week and the week after that. When it was clear Kosmo was beginning to expect it he bought a collar and a leash that he attached to the wall. Any time Kosmo tried to jump him in the middle of the week, he chained him up to make it clear that wasn’t ok anymore.

It was still several months before Kosmo seemed accustomed to the schedule completely, but it made Keiths life so much easier. Now he only needed to worry about Saturday night at 8pm. Any other day he was still just a man with his dog.

Now, though, he took a deep breath and opened the door and a streak of bluish grey dashed to jump on the bed. Kosmo sat there, eyes sharp, cock glistening red against the ruff of his belly.

Keith was already fully prepared, of course . He had to be. Had to lock Kosmo out of the room so he could be. The alternative was a painful experience that left him sore for weeks at best and just a little bloody at worst. Because Kosmo didn’t understand preparation. He was going to take what he wanted whether Keith was ready or not. After all, it was 8pm on a Saturday.

Keith crawled onto the bed and got into position, head down against the mattress, ass raised toward Kosmo. He’d tried several different poses when engaging with Kosmo. He found this one to be the easiest on his hips and back.

He closed his eyes when he felt the cold about against his entrance, but his lip at the warm glide of Kosmos tongue. He tensed when he felt the dull claws and scratchy pads against his back. Then he tried to relax when the tip began to press in.

And finally, finally, as Kosmo found his mark reality slipped away from Keith. He forgot that he was a man with a dog. He couldn’t bring himself to care about right and wrong. He wasn’t nervous or worried or disgusted or scared. Because right now he was full and he knew that in just a moment the real fun would begin.

As soon as he found purchase, Kosmo was off, and there was no stopping him. His hips pistoned into Keith at an almost punishing pace. There was no rhythm, no pattern. He seemed to hit a new spot with every jerk inward. And that was exactly how Keith liked it. Unpredictable, raw, powerful, intoxicating. Drool poured from Keiths mouth alongside his moans. He didn’t care. Tears streamed from his, from dryness or pleasure he didn’t know. He didn’t care. Was the puddle of cum beneath him from an orgasm or the steady milking of precum that Kosmo’s shuddering hips always seemed to squeeze out? Why should he care?

What he did care about was the small knot that began to form at the base of Kosmo’s cock. The small knot that he was always scared wouldn’t quite make it inside. He cared so much that he focused his attention on the little swell that pressed against his ring of muscle again and again but didn’t yet make it through. He cared so much that he used the little strength he had to press back, silently begging Kosmo to take this seriously.

He didn’t need to worry, of course. He never needed to worry. Kosmo wanted it as bad as him, and when he was good and ready he gave a strong push, ending up flush with Keiths hips. He continued to swell as his hot seed poured into Keith.

This time Keith knee he’d climaxed with an ear splitting moan. He still didn’t really care though. Because he was connected to Kosmo in the most intimate way two creatures could ever be connected. He felt full and warm and fucking euphoric.

They stayed that way for several minutes before Kosmo could pull away and retreat to a corner to clean himself off.

Keith did the same, finishing off his routine with a load of laundry, a long shower, and a cold beer. Now that it was over it was time for him to forget. Time for them to just be a man and his loyal dog.

Until next Saturday, at 8pm.


End file.
